Vendetta
by D4rkPhant0m
Summary: An inmate awaiting transfer to another facility hears the entire compound stirring with unbelievable news: they had finally caught HIM. But when the cut-faced killer arrives, it soon becomes horribly apparent that he had not fallen into their trap; they h
1. Part 1: The Arrival

**A/N**

'Sup, everyone! This is my first fanfiction about 'you know who', so please tell me if you have any questions or comments. I've had this idea for a while now, and he would not leave me alone until I wrote this. I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS! He is my favorite creepypasta and killer! When I first read his story and saw his picture, I had trouble sleeping for weeks. He used to scare me _so_ much. But now, he just makes me smile :)

Also, I was wondering if there is anyone experienced in writing horror stories that could give me some advice. My brain is not hardwired to write horror and it never feels like any of my 'horror' stories ever fit the genre. PLEASE PM me is you have any advice that you would be willing to share.

Lastly, I may rewrite this story later on. Stories that I have written always tend to annoy me after leaving them alone for long periods of time because I begin to notice everything wrong with them.

Thanks and enjoy the story!

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**Warning:**

This story contains gore and frightening depictions. I did not write this for the faint of heart or mind. If blood or the ripping and/or slicing of flesh disturbs you, do not read this story. Also, there is the mention of drugs and other crimes. If any of this disturbs you as well, I also believe that you should not read this story. You have been warned.

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**Vendetta - Part 1**

I remember hearing the guards bragging. Finally, they had done the impossible: they caught him. Of course, no one had ever caught _him_ before. He always eluded capture like a shadow on a moonless night; a darkness that whenever you reached out to grasp him, he slipped right through your fingers only to disappear without a trace. Clever, he always created a plan to outwit his enemies. No soul, for this reason, has ever crossed his path and left in one piece. The police would find new victims almost every day. Sometimes they would find one, while other times they would find many – almost in the hundreds.

Chuckling at their victory, one guard assured that the murderer would surely meet the death penalty after committing so many capitol offenses. In fact, the man stated that the only reason he was being moved here to the C.A. Holiday transfer unit was so that they could continue reviewing his file before sending him straight to death row. They had finally beaten him.

The guards stood in front of what would be his cell, located across the hall and two cells to the left of mine. Though, I was not there for murder like he was. Burglary acted as my noose. No more than a month ago, I was caught in the act of stealing a white 1976 Mustang in Dallas, Texas. I should have known that I was lucky after getting away Scott-free when I robbed that small corner store, and… never mind. Anyways, it did not take them long to send me to county, find me guilty in court, and now keep me here while await transfer. The guy in the cell next to mine wound up here for smuggling drugs, and the man on the other side is here for aggravated assault. All of us lost to our own demons.

My wife left me after I began doing drugs myself, taking our son with her. Never loved her much, anyways. I do not miss her, and she does not care if I roll over dead. Oh, what a joyous life that I live.

Still standing in front of the temporarily empty cell, the guards shared their legends of this crazed killer. One guard, who previously assured the others that the psycho would be put to death, stated that the killer allegedly slaughtered thirty people in less than twelve minutes. Another claimed that he murdered his entire family in the dead of night – his mother, father, and only younger brother. Last to share his story, a third guard mentioned that the murderer mutilates his victims so that they look like him. The sick thought made me shiver.

I heard rumors of this psycho before. Three years ago, a story on the news told of a serial killer on the loose in my hometown, claiming that he murdered six people within two months. Since I was about to go assist some buddies of mine rob this small joint and drive the getaway van, I never found out whom he killed. The killer vanished after that, not murdering anyone for a long while. Then, a few months later, he returned with a body count of 56 people within the time span of two weeks. Now, he has amassed a count of over 2,897 deaths, with an estimated 500 unknown victims. There is more blood on his hands than any other single man or woman has ever spilled.

A loud buzz paralyzed every living soul in the compound as the iron bar doors slid open. However, a much worse noise followed; a noise that would forever be the root of all my fear: laughter. Insane, maniacal laughter pierced every ear, filling every mind. The unnerving sound echoed in every corner, continuing until it abruptly cut off with a loud thud – most likely a guard knocking the wind out of him…

He had arrived.

Inmates slinked back into the recesses of their cells. Believe me, I wanted to hide. I was afraid. No matter how I acted before, I definitely showed how I really felt as fear plastered my face. Unfortunately, curiosity also had a grip on me.

Not a thought remained in my mind as I drifted towards the front of my cell. Though, I instantly regretted my actions as I gazed through the steel bars and right at him… and he stared right back.

He was haunting. Permanently scarring my brain, his face made me question my own sanity. Was I really seeing this? It could not be real! Parents tell their children that monsters like these are just their imagination, or a sick fantasy! But no, this was no illusion. A monster stood no more than 35 feet away from me.

That thing's – _his_ eyes bore straight into mine, chilling me to the core. Dark rings of charred flesh circled them, while the eyes themselves – open much too far – held irises that paled after not closing for years. Ghostly white, his seared skin contrasted against his jet-black hair and matched the straight jacket that wore. His pallid skin was not his trademark, though. That right belonged to that… that sick smile. Grinning like a maniac, his smile was not only large, but also etched into his face. The corners of his mouth were sliced all the way up to his temples, while streams of crimson blood dripped out of the gashes. H-His… his face… oh gosh… that- that face…

"Hello, new neighbor," he giggled. "I'm Jeff. What's your name?"


	2. Part 2: Incoherent Ramblings

**A/N**

Just a quick heads up, his story part has a lot of dialogue. You have been warned.

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**Part 2: ****Incoherent Ramblings from a Deranged Psycho**

My stomach jumped into my throat – that thing was talking to me.

"Quiet!" spat the guard at… Jeff. "You're not allowed to talk to **anyone**, got that?"

"Hmm, that depends. Can I talk to you?" Jeff queried.

"No."

"That guy?" he asked, nodding to a random prisoner.

"No."

"Him?"

"No."

"What about that guy over there?"

"No!"

"Baldy over there?"

"I said no!"

"Not even to the guy trying to swallow a handful of toilet paper?"

"N—… No… now shut up!"

"Ssssssshhhh," Jeff whispered. "I'm not supposed to talk to you!" The guard growled and stormed off down the hall, followed by the others after they locked the killer's cell. Jeff went into hysterics, laughing and cackling until he ran out of breath. The entire compound echoed with silence.

Not wanting to see his face any longer, I lied down on my bunk and rolled over to face the wall. However, that did not relieve the feeling slowly washing over me. It was the feeling of a million tiny pins stabbing my consciousness. I tossed and turned, hoping I could lose it in sleep. Then a sudden realization stopped all of my movements.

Was he _staring_ at me?

A little shuffling across the hall nearly made me leap out of my skin. That thing stood at the far right corner of his cell near the bars – as close as he could get to me. That's when he started.

It began as barely audible; just a slight echo above the silence. If I wasn't shaken by his presence, I never would have noticed it. My hearing elevated by fear, caught it amidst the constant hum of electricity flowing through the building. I could not make out what it was – until it grew in volume. This time, I heard him mumbling rapidly, giggling all the while. The words jumbled together and still sounded just above a whisper, however. What the heck was he saying?

Curiosity got the best of me once again as I stood up as quietly as possible and moved towards the bars. He faced away from his bars, sitting in the exact corner that I guessed. While he mumbled, he faced away from me. I caught a few words when his volume increased slightly again.

"… Close… so close to… beautiful… heheheh… gotta find—" he burst out laughing. "—going to kill him, make him… won't get away, not this time… make him pay… all of them… one left."

I couldn't take this anymore.

"Hey, you," I yelled. "Shut it!" At first, I was relieved when he quieted. But a moment later, I realized that I really, _really_ shouldn't have done that. Slowly, the thing turned its head towards me, grinning that permanent grin. His beaming only grew when his eyes locked with mine – if that was even possible.

"What's your name?" He breathed with an uneven voice. I took a step back away from the bars. "I'm looking for someone."

"Yeah," I took another step back. "I heard. You're gonna kill him." Jeff went into more hysterics as if I just told him the funniest joke on the face of the earth.

"No, no, no, no, no," he cackled. "Not just kill him. I need him for a family reunion." By this point, I had no idea why I was still talking to him. A part of me – the child inside, I guess – wanted to know what was going on. The police obviously weren't telling us everything that went on at his crime scenes, and this was my best chance of finally being able to understand.

"Your family?" I asked. After asking that, I don't know what scares me more: Jeff happy and delusional or Jeff furious. I made him furious. He twisted his body to face me the best he could with his straight jacket on. His expression was that of anger and rage; his seemingly eternal smile replaced with gritted teeth and fire-filled eyes. What had I done?

"Don't," growled Jeff, "**ever** insult my brother like that. That _thing_ I'm looking for could never be related to him!" I raised my hands in apology.

"Hey, I didn't mean to offend your brother. I'm just trying to understand." Jeff mulled over my words for a moment while his eyes lingered on me. If you can imagine the feeling of being covered with thousands of tiny spiders, that is what I felt from his stare.

"Whatever…" I mumbled, lying back down on my bunk. "I'm going to sleep."

"Not yet…" he giggled to me as I fell out of consciousness. "But soon…"


End file.
